Of Mice, Men and Obstinate Arrows
by jellinor
Summary: Winia pines for Chris who sort of really objects to Leo who is head over heels in love with Pacifica who teases "Zefi" who ends up confiding in Eirote who can't seem to take her mind off of Dennis who totally misunderstands the hints made by Fafal who is overly-protective of Chris who doesn't know how to feel – or what to do. And that's just the beginning.
1. Serenade of Sleepless Souls

**Of Mice, Men & Obstinate Arrows**

A Bit of Background and Context

Roughly set after Episode 22 of the animated series: Chris and his loyal band of Merry Men (and Women) have finally seen the light and crossed over to the sunnier side of the Apocalypse; Pacifica has been saved from imprisonment and certain death by the aforementioned rebel group and reunited with Shannon, Raquel and Makarov the horse; and our gang of misfits and criminals is currently regrouping in the forest. But despite of the overhanging danger from all sides, our friends still have time for plenty of misunderstandings, unexpected character development, new friendships and even a wee bit of romance.

Disclaimer

I don't own _Scrapped_ _Princess_.

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**Chapter 1: Serenade of Sleepless Souls**

"Leo? Leo!" Her not-so-quiet whispers didn't seem to have much effect on the sleeping aristocrat, so Winia Chester decided that more drastic measures were in order. And as the sleeping Leopold Scorpos would soon find out, Winia's drastic measure of choice was cold and very, very wet.

"Argh! C-C-C-COLD!" Poor Leo's dream about Pacifica, a beautiful starry night, and romantic background music came to an abrupt end when Winia unceremoniously emptied the entire contents of a bucket on his head. "_Wiiiinia_?"

But curiously enough, the offender in question didn't offer him any explanation as to why she had deemed it necessary to interrupt his wonderful dream quite so mercilessly. Instead, she handed him a towel, silently gesturing him to be quiet and to come with her. Her strange behaviour immediately aroused the young noble's curiosity. This was _certainly_ unusual, especially for someone as timid as Winia. So was her atypical behaviour a sign that something wasn't quite right? Was it a cause for concern? For the life of him, Leo didn't know, but he had to admit that the sudden change of pace _was_ rather exciting. Thus, deciding that it was only fair to give his friend's mental health the benefit of the doubt, the aspiring knight obediently trotted after her when she disappeared among the trees.

But unbeknownst to both Winia and Leo, the big, golden-brown eyes of a certain Obstinate Arrow commander followed them as they retreated into the forest. A small frown of displeasure settled on his face as they disappeared among the trees. What on earth were those two up to? Christopher Bailaha had expected everyone – with the obvious exception of Pacifica Casull, of course, but that was a given – to exercise more caution than to wander into the woods by themselves, especially at this time of night. It simply wasn't safe, and he remained firmly unconvinced of the Amber Knight-wannabe's abilities to protect _anything_ should the need arise.

True, he had reluctantly agreed to spar with the Duke of Scorpos' heir, but that had been for less than a noble reason (boredom, to be exact) and in order to finally put an end to the seemingly endless stream of requests. He had much preferred to fight Shannon Casull or maybe the Giat princess, whose abilities were better matched with his own – or anyone less chatty, really – but Chris had his pride and would never under any circumstances turn down a challenge.

But just as he expected, it had been almost painfully easy: Scorpos had accepted defeat a disappointing twenty seconds after launching his first inadequate attack. So, no, Chris had absolutely no reason to believe that the young man could protect himself or his companion if they were surprised by enemy scouts or wild animals. Perhaps he ought to follow them to ensure their safety and continued longevity? But surely, that would qualify as a gross invasion of their privacy, wouldn't it? After all, they must have a damn good reason for walking into the woods in the middle of the night… Or was it simpler than that? Could it be that they just wanted to be alone? But why would Winia and Scorpos—

"Should I bring them back?"

The melodic sound of a woman's voice put a sudden and immediate end to his inner debate with himself; and while an ordinary person might have jumped out of his skin, Chris was far from ordinary and merely acknowledged her presence with a small nod.

He was sitting with his back to a tree, securely wrapped in his cloak in front of the remains of the campfire, so the tall redhead crouched down beside her old friend and leader, patiently waiting for his reply. Now, Fafal didn't actually think that Chris would send her out into the dark, damp forest to chase after the clumsy noble and his pretty companion, but she wasn't going to assume anything when it came to Chris' dealings with Winia Chester. After all, she, along with the rest of their unit, had read The Letter and detected the undertones that only a fool (it was almost scary how their own darling Dennis, for all of his dagger-flinging abilities, really was THAT dense) would mistake for anything other than a young woman's first awkward attempt at romance. But the Arrows had yet to discover whether or not the girl's feelings were at all reciprocated; as usual, Chri-boy had donned a mask of polite indifference, and none of them were brave or foolish enough to ask him about it.

"That won't be necessary. They know the way back."

Satisfied that Fafal understood that his decision was final and irreversible, Chris watched her disappear into one of the nearby tents.

Well, admittedly, the thought of a defenceless Winia and an almost equally defenceless Scorpos all alone in the woods was far from pleasant, but Chris wasn't so naive that he hadn't foreseen Fafal's reaction had he ordered her to bring them back to camp. She would undoubtedly and incorrectly – and not to mention, foolishly! – have misinterpreted his concern for both of their safety as something farfetched, like jealousy, and that would only lead to one thing: trouble.

And a lot of it, at that.

Indeed. He hadn't forgotten the identical, unsettling look on their faces before, during and after that ill-fated meeting with the Baroness; Fafal and Jill had both been grinning at him like a pair deranged idiots. Chris still couldn't quite believe that his own "mother" had intercepted Winia's letter and then found it necessary to distribute copies of it to the _entire_ unit. The Baroness had claimed that it was a distraction that would hinder his ability to successfully complete his mission, and was as such wholly unacceptable. She had then gone on to forbid him to visit the origin of the so-called "distraction" while he was away at Grendel.

Chris had been irritated, yes; the Baroness had little right to interfere with his private matters, especially when it concerned something as trivial as a letter, and perhaps a little insulted, too. Had he ever let anything of an even vaguely personal nature interfere with his duties?

No, Chris thought _not_.

After all, he was nothing but a professional.

...although, the youngest Arrow was not above admitting that, maybe, it _did_ help that certain members of his unit lacked even the most basic understanding of (and respect for) the concept of Other People's Business, which made having a personal life (with emphasis on "personal" as apart, separate, safe from Fafal's pryingeyes and exempt from Dennis' clever questions) rather difficult in the first place. This was, however, just another fact of life and would have been – as the colloquial saying went – very "old news" if it hadn't been accompanied by an ever-so slight tingle of embarrassment.

But he hadn't given it much thought at the time: Chris had been preoccupied with wondering exactly _what_ could have prompted the Baroness to resort to such a drastic course of action, because he was certain that she hadn't told him the whole truth. He had been equally suspicious of her sudden and wholly unexpected display of affection; Baroness Bailaha was not a cruel woman, but neither did she possess a particularly warm or inviting personality. So her last act as his superior – touching the side of his face with her hand, itself an entirely alien gesture (albeit not entirely unwelcome, he had to admit; only very, very odd under any circumstances), and telling him to follow his own free will – had been alarmingly uncharacteristic.

So even though he eventually _had_ followed her advice (and thus explaining how he had come to betray his country and take up residence in a dark forest, after having come to the rescue of the very person he had worked so hard at to eliminate), he could only assume that the unexpected situation had stemmed from the traumatic experience of the Baroness being removed from office. It wasn't a completely satisfactory explanation, however, since she had never struck him as someone who would ever allow feelings and emotions to cloud her better judgement; and Chris prided himself in the ability to read people and situations like open books. In fact, if he hadn't known any better, he might have thought that the steely, bespectacled woman had been concerned about _him_.

But that was, of course, utterly ludicrous for two reasons: firstly, he was her son only by necessity and nothing else. He had assumed the Bailaha name for one purpose only; in order to further his investigation into the Grendel Prophecy and the truth behind the Scrapped Princess. Secondly, if so-called "motherly concern" indeed included ruthless infliction of humiliation upon her offspring in front of his comrades, he was certain that it was something entirely undesirable and that he would survive just fine without a mother. That wouldn't be a problem. Until only very recently, he had.

So he honestly could not understand the fuss about the arrival of a simple letter, which contained not a shred of important information or secret code. So while the Baroness had declared it riddled with romantic intent, he was fairly certain that her claim had been part of some elaborate scheme to prevent him from straying from his assignment (which, again, stabbed at his professional pride. Chris never skipped out on _anything_). So when he finally read the letter himself – dryly noting the irony of being the last one to do so – Winia had appeared decidedly friendly but nothing beyond that.

It was only natural that he replied.

Chris prided himself with perfectly civilized manners, despite of the severe disadvantages of a provincial background, no parents and a rather brutal line of work. So as was proper, he had arranged for the tone of his reply to match hers, and after the customary polite enquiries in the form of _How do you do? _and _I hope this letter reaches you well_ (as well as the more atypical _I didn't expect you to write_ and _I'm sorry for the kidnapping_ bits), he had written something about that beautiful night in the Glass Canyon. But that was merely because he didn't know what else to say.

After all, what _did_ one write to one's ex-hostages?

The whole letter situation had undoubtedly, now that he thought back on it, been utterly unreasonable – albeit not _entirely_ unpleasant for reasons he wouldn't dwell on even if he had wanted to.

Chris stifled a yawn.

It was getting late. There were still no signs that Winia and Scorpos intended to return to camp any time soon, but the surrounding forest seemed peaceful enough; Raquel Casull had sensed the area for enemies and found none, nor had her brother's Dragoon detected any hostile presences. So Chris decided to put his trust in those two highly reliable sources of information, deeming the danger of either Winia or Scorpos dying in the immediate future to be rather slim. Or at least slim enough for him not to risk his reputation by having them escorted back to camp.

Thus, Christopher Bailaha, formerly Armalite (and for some unfathomable reason, "Chri-boy" to a certain redhead) decided to allow himself a few hours of well-deserved sleep. But as usual, he made sure to keep his trusted battle-axe close by his side in the case of an emergency.


	2. A Maiden's Wistful Song

**Chapter 2: A Maiden's Wistful Song**

"Winia, where are we going?" Leo stumbled as he attempted to dry his wet hair while simultaneously avoiding the shrubbery and rocks obstructing his path. He wasn't having much success, however, and he knew that he would have a few bruises to nurse later. "...Winia?"

"It's not far, Leo. There is something I want to show you."

Winia was fervently searching for the markers she had left after she made her discovery earlier in the day. But finding them proved difficult: dusk had fallen faster than she had expected and Leo had been capable of much deeper sleep than she had anticipated. But then, finally, after a moment of uncertainty, she found what she was looking for. Excellent. That meant that they were almost there.

Leo trudged on valiantly behind the girl, generously treating the sudden "field exercise" as part of his knight training; the disastrous spar with the leader of the Obstinate Arrow had proven beyond all doubt that he needed all the training he could get. However, Leo didn't quite understand why they needed to be quite so far away from camp, or why they had to do it in the darkness of the night.

But before he could bring himself to ask, Winia spoke again in her calm, low voice, "We're here."

And Leo was rendered speechless; all he could do was to stare. Of course, as the son of a duke, he had never been left wanting when it came to fine, expensive things, but the scene that met him surpassed all of his father's treasures: it was simply breathtakingly beautiful. The forest stopped only a few metres from the edge of a cliff, which was overlooking a distant mountain range, a cascading waterfall, and the compact jade-green of a forest continuing infinitely in all directions. The sparkling heavens above them and the moonlight flooding the landscape with its soft glow did nothing to lessen the magnificent impression either.

"Winia, this… This is _amazing_! How on Earth did you find this place?" Leo could hardly contain his excitement. This place was perfect for his next marriage proposal to the beautiful, spunky girl; with the scenery like _this_, how could she possibly refuse him? "I can't wait to tell Miss Pacifica about it and—"

"Actually, Leo, do you think you could keep this a secret?"

Frankly, Winia's request baffled him. How could she not want to share something so spectacular? He was going to argue against it, but stopped himself. Firstly, a gentleman of his standing and background _never _questioned the wishes of a lady, unless the requests were bordering on the impossible or the insane and clearly, Winia's did neither. Secondly, he knew the girl well enough to know that she had her reasons to ask for his silence. He just had to be patient, and she would tell him herself.

It was during their journey together that Leo and Winia had planted the first, tentative seeds of friendship. She had initially been intimidated by his noble heritage, and he had been taken aback by her quiet and reserved demeanour. However, it didn't take long before Leo's happy and caring nature had convinced the peasant girl to look beyond his expensive armour and white horse, while Winia's genuine concern for her friends soon earned her his respect and admiration. Slowly, a strong mutual trust had started to spire between the two, and after the tragic events surrounding Pacifica's amnesia and Fulle's death, they felt closer than ever. But neither Winia nor Leo even considered anything other than friendship: Winia had eventually told Leo of her confused feelings about Chris Bailaha, while words hadn't been necessary to convey Leo's devotion to the pretty Providence Breaker.

So Leo decided to adhere to her wish and swore on his honour as a knight to-be not to tell a single soul.

Visibly relaxed by his solemn oath, Winia gracefully sat herself down on the trunk of a fallen tree, facing the beautiful landscape. Leo interpreted her actions as an invitation to join her, and casually plonked down next to her.

"I found this place when I was out looking for firewood earlier." Winia's voice ended the comfortable silence. "But you're the first person I told, Leo."

"I'm honoured, Winia. Thank you." Leo and Winia had since long ceased to use formal titles when addressing each other; calling your friend "Miss" or "Sir" had seemed plain silly after all the time they spent together.

"So why did you call me out here?" Leo finally asked the question that had been burning on the tip of his tongue ever since Winia had emptied that frightful bucket of water over his head and led him into the woods. He concealed a knowing smile when the moonlight revealed her reddening cheeks and how she started to fidget with the hem of her skirt. Oh, of course, it could only be about _him_. But Leo was a gentleman, and did not pressure his friend to explain herself before she was ready.

"Um, well, you see, Leo. I-I-I, um, well, er..." Winia had hoped that she wouldn't sound as stupid as she felt, but when the words tumbled out of her mouth in complete disarray, she realized that she wasn't having any success. At all.

"It's about Christopher Bailaha, isn't it." It wasn't a question, but Winia wasn't bothered by how her friend had seen through her so effortlessly. Rather, she was glad that Leo understood her well enough to know what she was trying to say. So she simply nodded, but her companion didn't say anything else. He merely waited for her to continue.

"Um, well, I just... I don't know what to do!" The young man by her side turned his head to face her, giving her his full and unwavering attention. "I mean, I never know what to do around him; I can't figure him out! Remember when we went to his home? He dismissed us without a word, but... But when he looked at me his eyes… His eyes, Leo, looked so _sad_. But it's _Chris_ we're talking about! And Chris _never_ looks sad. Or happy, or scared, or… He never looks _anything_! I… I just don't _understand_, Leo!"

Leo didn't reveal his surprise at his normally shy friend's unexpected outburst; Winia had never expressed herself quite this forcefully before. In fact, he hadn't believed that the gentle girl even was capable of forcefulness in the first place. But then again, before tonight he wouldn't have believed that Winia would be capable of pouring a bucket of water on him, either.

The young noble didn't fully understand the complex workings of the female psyche, but he _did_ recognize confusion when he saw it. It was a feeling that he was very familiar with himself, and because he could understand how she felt, he saw a cause of real concern.

"Winia, I'm only asking because I've seen it happen before, but you don't suppose that you care for him because you feel that you owe him your life?"

Indeed, Leo had seen it before, and the tragedy of unrequited love had imprinted itself in his memories. The knight in question had behaved amicably, but the lady's feelings were crushed under his polite indifference nonetheless. Leo thought that he recognized the same polite indifference in Christopher Bailaha, and he was determined do all in his power to prevent a similar fate for Winia.

"The thought has crossed my mind, but… No, I don't think so. I want to understand him, Leo, understand what he's thinking, what he's feeling, who he is. I don't know why, I can't explain it, I just..."

Winia stared at the ground by her feet, careful to avoid eye-contact with Leo for the fear that his eyes would tell her that she was being silly. Well, she knew that she was silly, since she was convinced that Chris didn't actually harbour any similar feelings for her. But seeing it in Leo, her thoughts and fears would suddenly become reality, and then she would be forced to accept it.

But she needn't have worried, because a softer tone had crept into Leo's voice.

"That's exactly how I feel about Miss Pacifica. It is my highest wish is to share all of her innermost thoughts. I haven't had much chance to talk to her about these things yet – somehow, something always seems to get in the way – but I'm certain that I'll succeed eventually!"

"I'm sure you will, Leo."

Winia finally raised her bowed head, and looked at her friend with eyes full of genuine fondness. The young man at her side was truly infatuated with Pacifica, and she couldn't stop herself from smiling at his puppyish eagerness. This was the Leo that she treasured: his unwavering optimism, undying enthusiasm, genuine concern for his friends and fierce sense of loyalty. He would make a fine knight one day. "I'm glad that you know what you want. I certainly don't."

"But Winia, didn't you just say that you want the same thing with the Baron as I want with Miss Pacifica?" Leo was getting a little bit confused. Because that was what she had said only moments ago, wasn't it? Or had he misunderstood her completely? No, he was certain that—

"I do. But I don't think that he'd let me. You know how he is... Besides, he doesn't seem interested in me at all. We've hardly even spoken to each other." A downcast Winia sighed as she thought about her numerous, awkward attempts to strike up an actual conversation with him. But they had all been failures – _spectacular_ failures – and only driven her further into frustration. "Still, that night in the Glass Canyon, he was so different, and… And I just wish he would open up to me again."

"Well, maybe you need to give him some time." Leo had heard the story of the Glass Canyon more times than he could remember, but in his heart, he wondered if it _really _had been Bailaha that she was talking about. Leo couldn't imagine how the expressionless young man could possibly have captured Winia's heart, but if Winia was happy, he was happy. But at the moment, she wasn't, so Leo was determined to do his very best to give her all the support that he could. "Remember that he has only recently lost a lot of things from his past: his country, his beliefs, even his name. He signed his own death warrant when he saved Miss Pacifica, and everything he knows has been taken away from him. It must be very difficult for him, even if he doesn't show it. Besides, you said that he'd been raised in the military, right? So he's probably not like you and me to begin with. Perhaps he needs to discover that he has, you know, feelings."

Now it was Winia's turn to be rendered speechless; Leo had really surprised her this time. He sounded so mature and so adult, traits that were directly at odds with _all_ of her other experiences of him. Who was this calm, thoughtful person sitting next to her and _where was __Leo_?

But Winia was quickly reassured that Leo still was Leo when he added, with equal seriousness, "Or maybe the Baron has just been hit too many times over the head. Battle can do all kinds of things to people, you know."

"That's probably true, Leo," she replied with a sad smile. "Oh, I just wish I could find a way to get closer to him."

Leo glanced over at Winia, who looked so utterly dejected that he pulled her closer to him and placed an arm around her thin shoulders. The simple act of friendship conveyed his honest sympathy, understanding and how much he wanted to help her. Winia was grateful for the friendly gesture. She had never had any real friends before the Casulls suddenly had appeared in her life, but she felt closer to Leo than anyone other than Pacifica. It was reassuring to know that he genuinely cared about her happiness and that he understood her feelings.

The two friends remained huddled close together, gazing out over the serene, moonlit landscape, each deep in thought. Leo and Winia pondered the respective mystery that was Pacifica Casull and Christopher Bailaha, but without much success. It seemed that they would remain a pair of unsolved riddles, at least for the time being.

Winia and Leo were both so deep in their own worlds that neither sensed the presence of a third being on the cliff, nor did they see the brief flash of eyes in the darkness behind them.


	3. Morning Medleys

Author's Note: I'm so sorry about not updating the story until now! But on the upside, this chapter is long, _really_ long. It'll introduce a few more of characters (although Zefiris, Seness and Eirote will sadly not make personal appearances until a little bit later) and hopefully give a bit more background about the characters' relationships to one another. I hope you'll enjoy!

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**Chapter 3: Morning Medleys**

"WINIA! WAKE UP ALREADY!" Pacifica was crouching over her friend's seemingly lifeless body, trying to penetrate the thick barrier of pillows and blankets that Winia had erected around her head in order to protect her ears. "WI-NI-A!"

Pacifica's brilliantly blue eyes were alight with annoyance at Winia's stubborn refusal to acknowledge her, but they also displayed traces of concern; Pacifica had been yelling and gently shaking her friend for a good twenty minutes already, but Winia had remained positively comatose throughout the whole thing. Why didn't she wake up? Perhaps she was sick, but Winia's forehead didn't seem hotter than normal and Raquel didn't think that she was ill, either. So what was wrong with her?

"Is she still not awake, Pacifica?" Raquel's head suddenly appeared through the opening of the girls' tent. The scene that met the senior Casull would, under normal circumstances, have brought a smile to her face, but this morning was far from normal. By her own admission, Winia liked to rise to the first rays of morning sun, but today she blankly refused to leave her blanket cocoon. While Raquel was worried about the young woman, she didn't sense illness of natural (or magical) origin.

"No, Raquel-nee. I've really tried to wake her up, but all she does is to sigh a lot and to murmur something about axes." Pacifica looked up at her sister, while scratching the back of her head and wrinkling her nose in frustration. "But she doesn't seem sick, so—"

"I'm alright." The muffled voice from underneath the pillows sounded darker than usual. "I'm just a bit tired, there's no reason to—"

"Winia, come on! It has been _hours_ since sunrise, sleepy-head_."_ Pacifica wasn't a very patient girl, so she started to pull on Winia's blankets with renewed resolve once life-signs were received from inside the bundle. She noted Winia's squeal of protest with satisfaction. Ah, _finally_, result! "Get up, already! I said, GET UP!"

"Pacifica, _please_, it's too early! It's still just morning." Winia begged her friend to give back the blanket and to leave her in peace for just a little while longer. Five minutes would be enough. "_Please_?"

"Humph. But I've been awake for hours and hours already, because of Shannon-nii's terrible singing!" Pacifica's usually cheerful face grew a shade darker at the memory of the series of horrendous, broken tunes that had interrupted her wonderful dream about dancing omelettes. "Honestly, there's a reason why he doesn't speak much, you know. I didn't have a choice but to get up! Besides, since you were still sleeping and Raquel-nee was out sensing, _I_ had to cook breakfast."

"Pacifica, _you_ cooked breakfast?" Winia's eyes immediately flew wide open. Pacifica only meant well, but her cooking skills definitely left quite bit to be desired. They had all noted _that_ during yesterday's dinner. But Pacifica _was_ royalty after all, wasn't she? So maybe she wasn't _supposed_ to know how to cook?

"Yes, I did. Someone had to." Pacifica looked questioningly at Winia, who suddenly seemed very much awake. She couldn't quite figure out what had startled her, but the main thing was that her friend finally had woken up. "Why?"

"Oh, um, it's nothing," Winia lied with the best of intentions, grateful that a pillow still partially covered her face. "Really, it's nothing. Pacifica."

"But now that you mention it, Chris is the only one who's eating. The others said that they weren't hungry. Even Shannon-nii, who'll eat just about anything_..._"Pacifica knitted her fair eyebrows together when she realized that there might be a reason why the entire Obstinate Arrow unit had fled the scene as soon as she proudly announced that breakfast was served. "You don't think that it has something to do with yesterday's dinner, do you?"

"Eh..." Winia felt incredibly stupid when she couldn't think of anything more intelligent to say.

"_That's it_, isn't it? Oh, that _does__ it_! Where is he?!" In a fit of blonde rage, Pacifica flew to her feet and stormed out of the tent, pushing past her sister to hunt down her brother. Shannon-nii, that... that _jerk_! He had some real explaining to do! He _knew_ how hard she tried and dinner really hadn't been _that_ bad!

"Pacifica, she..." Winia pushed herself up on her elbow, looking at Raquel questioningly. "Is everything going to be alright?"

"Oh, don't worry about Shannon." The mage smiled down on the younger woman reassuringly, while quietly wondering whether or not she should break up the brawl that was sure to follow Pacifica's sudden exit. Raquel could never quite understand the complex relationship between her sister and brother, but despite of all of the pointless fighting and loud bickering, they loved each other and that was all that mattered. "I'm sure that he will be just fine."

But Winia wasn't convinced. Although Shannon undoubtedly was a brave and very accomplished swordsman – even Chris had admitted that Shannon Casull was one of the best he had ever seen – his little sister was a formidable force when angry.

Raquel's kind smile froze ever so slightly when the morning peace was shattered by the unmistaken ruckus caused by the two arguing Casulls. She sighed inwardly; Raquel had since long accepted her role as the mediator in their various conflicts and from the sound of it, Shannon was in desperate need of reinforcements.

"Maybe I should go and check on them..." And with those words, the oldest Casull went off to resolve the fight before every bounty hunter, soldier, priest and Peacemaker in the kingdom was attracted to their location by the noise alone.

Once alone, Winia pulled herself up so that she was sitting upright among the confused heaps of blankets and pillows, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from her eyes. It would be impossible to go back to asleep now, especially with all that commotion outside. Shannon and Pacifica sure knew how to be loud, but Winia was strangely comforted by the sound of their voices; it had always been so quiet at the inn, and the siblings' good-natured squabbling reminded her that there were people around her and that she wasn't alone. Winia didn't quite know how to express that feeling, but it felt nice. Better than nice, even; somehow, it made her feel as if she _belonged_.

She suppressed a yawn as she staggered to her feet and started to pull on her clothes.

Winia hadn't meant for it to get so late, but both she and Leo had lost track of time. When they finally realized just how long they had been on the cliff, deep in their own thoughts, they had immediately headed back to camp. Leo had waved a silent goodnight before he disappeared into the tent he shared with Shannon, but she had lingered before turning towards the tent where she knew that Raquel and Pacifica were sleeping.

A certain someone had caught her eye.

_Chris_.

The Obstinate Arrow commander had been sitting by the dying camp fire, wrapped in his dark cloak and propped up against a tree. She had cautiously walked a little closer to him, unsure if he were awake or not; his eyes were hidden behind his thick fringe, which had fallen forward with his lightly bowed head. But his deep and rhythmical breathing had told her, to her amazement, that Chris was sound asleep.

Really, her discovery shouldn't have been very startling, since even Chris needed to sleep – he was only a human being, after all. But it had been the first time that _she_ had seen him sleeping.

Winia had taken a deep breath, and before her better judgement had a chance to catch up with her, she had crouched down next to him. It was the closest she had been to him since the Glass Canyon incident.

She had looked at the sleeping face with wonder – this was a side of Chris that she had never seen before. He seemed so unguarded, almost serene. It had been an astonishing contrast to his reserved, waking self. But she had surprised even herself with her next observation: in the faint light of the still glowing embers, Chris had looked almost vulnerable.

But she had soon been given a sharp reminder that although he may have appeared serene and vulnerable, he certainly wasn't. His left hand had been securely gripped around the handle of his battle-axe, so even when asleep, Chris seemed ready to defend himself against an enemy's attack at a mere heartbeat's notice.

The determination with which he seemed to clutch his weapon had saddened her. Did Chris go through each day of his life feeling threatened? Afraid?

But she supposed that someone, who had been in the military for as long as Chris, was bound to have adopted some rather strange habits. She wished that she could ask him about it, but Winia knew that in the morning, his defences would be up once more and all traces of the sleeping, peaceful being by the fire would be carefully erased from existence. But still, she couldn't help but wondering why.

She had quietly walked towards her own tent deep in thought.

After carefully stepping over Pacifica, who had been sprawled out over more than her share of the tent, Winia had settled down under her own blanket. Her head had still been filled with thoughts about Chris, but she had finally drifted off to sleep just as someone, probably Pacifica, mumbled something about eggs.

The next thing she remembered was the insistent call of an irritating voice, which was mercilessly tearing through her dreams about a certain axe-wielder. Winia had tried her best to block the sound with her own pillow and also Raquel's for good measure, while wondering if this was some kind of delayed retributive punishment for rousing Leo so harshly from his nap the previous evening.

As Winia blinked at the soft sunlight that enfolded her as soon as she walked out of the tent, she wondered if said friend had fared any better from the late night than she. But when she finally picked him out from among the people sitting around the fire with pained expressions on their faces, her findings were as unsettling as they were conclusive: Leo looked tired, _really_ tired.

And it was all her fault.

"Here!" chirped a voice enthusiastically. "It's breakfast!"

"Th-Thanks, Pacifica."

Winia only hesitantly accepted the hot bowl that Pacifica had unceremoniously shoved into her hands. Now, Winia had seen her fair share of odd-looking dishes in her days, but she was fairly certain that she didn't recognize the lumpy concoction in front of her. Or if it was edible, even. But the good manners instilled in her by her uncle and the proud smile on Pacifica's face prevented her from asking what 'it' was.

"No problem! There's a lot left, so eat up!" Pacifica beamed at her newly woken friend, but turned towards the rest with a significantly grimmer expression on her face. "And that goes for _all of you_!"

A barely audible collective groan escaped the small group by the camp fire, and the blonde girl turned her back on them with an indignant huff. It was humiliating how they had deemed her cooking so bad that they rather flee than eat. But luckily for him, her stupid brother had finally seen reason after their little argument, and somehow convinced the others to return for breakfast. Shannon-nii had, however, forced her to promise that Winia would cook lunch and dinner, to which she had agreed, albeit grudgingly.

Pacifica peeked into the cooking pot with satisfaction: it looked just right. Silly Raquel-nee, who had offered to conjure up those mini-Mr. Soopys to assist her! Pacifica had refused any help to her sister's obvious dismay, but now she was glad that she had – preparing oatmeal really wasn't all that difficult at all! The success had given her new confidence in her budding skills; the small matter of the not-so-successful dinner last night was obviously just a little hiccup in her progress. So Pacifica happily decided that asking Winia if she could help with dinner wouldn't be breaking her promise to Shannon-nii. Well, not technically, anyway.

-#-

"Casull, kindly remind me of _why_ we're back here."

Dennis' low growl contained the promise of bodily harm as he addressed Shannon, who was picking in his bowl with his spoon, but, like everyone else, didn't dare to put it down.

Only fear and good manners prevented Dennis from leaving again, but he wanted to make it perfectly clear to Shannon Casull that the trickery was _not_ appreciated and that revenge would be swift and merciless. Dennis didn't like to whisper, since it greatly reduced the dramatic effect of threatening someone, but he didn't want to attract Pacifica's attention either, oh no. Contrary to an annoyingly long-lived misconception, Dennis was no fool; he was certain that the Providence Breaker would force more so-called "breakfast" on him if he did.

But when Shannon Casull stubbornly refused to acknowledge him, Dennis turned to his fellow Arrows for support. "Fafal?" he urged.

"'Tactical deliberations', I believe they were called."

The redhead's whisper was strangely monotonic before she demonstratively raised her spoon and let the grey lumps fall back into her bowl to a series of splashing sounds.

"Yes, I distinctly remember something along those lines." Dennis' eyes narrowed, but they didn't leave Shannon's face even for a moment, and Shannon was beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable under the intensity of the glare. "However, do you see anything here that could be useful for tactical deliberations, Fafal?"

"I _certainly_ don't, Dennis."

Now that Fafal's eyes were directed towards him as well, Shannon began to feel quite uncomfortable.

Raquel noticed how both Dennis and Fafal were staring daggers at her brother, and while she agreed that Shannon _did_ bear some of the blame for their little predicament, Raquel felt that it was her sisterly duty to defend him. Besides, Pacifica _had_ worked very hard to cook breakfast, although she had to admit that both she and Shannon probably had built up a certain 'tolerance' against their sister's culinary efforts over the years, in more ways than one. "Now, why don't we all just calm down a little bit and—"

"Do you, Jill?" Dennis ignored the mage altogether, and Raquel decided that it was best and safest to simply let Nature run its course. Shannon would reappear relatively unharmed from whatever Dennis had planned for him. Raquel wasn't worried.

"_No", _was the curt answer from the normally calm and soft-spoken seer.

"Nor do I." Dennis was now grinning evilly at him, and Shannon felt positively uncomfortable. "Casull, I think we should have a little talk after this _wonderful_ meal."

Shannon actually relaxed when Dennis finally delivered his challenge, even though the man had taken his sweet time about it; Shannon had never been particularly appreciative of being stared at by people he hardly knew. But while he had no doubts about his supremacy in battle, Shannon didn't exactly cherish the idea of facing Fafal, Jill _and_ Dennis first thing in the morning – and especially not on an empty stomach. After all, they _were_ all former members of the Royal Special Forces _and_ had been part of some special task force for who knew how long. And if his defeating of the axe-boy had told him anything, it was that he could expect an Obstinate Arrow to be both skilled _and_ persistent.

Shannon sighed. As much as he disliked turning down a challenge, especially one which he felt fairly certain that he would win, he recognized the rare instances when fighting would just be pointless. This was one such instance: they had nothing to gain from turning against each other, particularly not when the challenge in question stemmed from something as stupid as poorly prepared breakfast.

Besides, the morning promised to develop into a beautiful day, he had slept well and woken up fully rested, both of his sisters were within an arm's reach once more, Pacifica was smiling and simultaneously managing to irritate the life of out him like the annoying little brat she had always been, Seness had unexpectedly come to their rescue in the furious battle against the Peacemakers earlier and Zefi had even joined them for dinner the night before. In simpler terms, Shannon felt more relaxed than he had for a very long time. And with the exceptions of the damned prophecy and subsequent multiple attempts made on Pacifica's life, the inedible breakfast and the death glares he was currently receiving from three Obstinate Arrows, everything was just dandy and he wouldn't let a stupid fight ruin the peace.

So Shannon just muttered, "Give me a break. Look, I made a deal with her. We eat her breakfast and Winia cooks lunch _and_ dinner."

Dennis merely growled something incoherent, while Fafal and Jill looked back into their bowls in silence, carefully contemplating that which had been said; as much as the three Arrows wanted to, they couldn't question Shannon's agreement with his sister. After all, thanks to him, they would now get two delicious meals for the price of one, if horrible, breakfast.

_It's for the greater good_, Dennis told himself as he hesitantly dipped his spoon into the depths of his bowl, caught something lumpy, closed his eyes and swallowed.

-#-

"Good morning." Winia sat down next to Dennis, but since he seemed preoccupied with glaring at Shannon, she turned her full attention to the person to her left.

"Uhm, Winia..._" _Leo's foggy brain instructed his lips to smile, but something went wrong along the way and the command succeeded in creating a comical grimace instead. "Good morning to you, too."

Winia felt a sting of fresh guilt at the sight of Leo's sleep-deprived eyes, which were peeking through from behind his floppy fringe.

"I'm sorry for dragging you into the woods yesterday. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be half-asleep right now."

"Oh, but I assure you that I'm perfectly alright." Leo did his best to sound as cheerful as usual. But it proved rather difficult due to the lack of sleep and Pacifica's breakfast, which was slowly making its way down his throat. He would rather face a thousand foes than in any way injure his beloved's feelings, but even Leo had to admit that her cooking could be better. But having said that, he would never refuse anything she gave him.

"Oh..." Winia's voice trailed off into complete silence and a slight frown appeared on her forehead.

"Winia?" Leo nudged her discreetly with his spoon. "Is there something wrong? Winia?"

But when his friend remained unresponsive even after a more forceful nudge, Leo gave up and followed her gaze. As expected, it landed on a lone figure, separated from the rest of the group and pacing back and forth in an unusually agitated manner.

_Christopher Bailaha_.

Leo merely shook his head.


	4. Bad Day Blues

**Chapter 4: Bad Day Blues**

"What's _wrong_ with him?" Dennis whispered to Jill, while discreetly gesturing towards Chris, who just had finished reprimanding a teary-eyed Sutton for failing to report for duty on time. "Poor Sutton was only a bit late! Honestly, you would think that he'd let that slide, especially when you consider where we are... I mean, how are we supposed to _be_ on time when we can't even _tell it_?"

"Shush, Dennis, or he'll hear!" Jill hissed back. "You know better than antagonizing him when he's in a bad mood."

Dennis did know this very well, and much like the other members of the Obstinate Arrow unit, he had gathered this information from a series of first-hand experiences. Despite of his short stature, Chris was a formidable opponent – _especially_ when he was pissed. He usually invited the cause of his fury to a spar with him, which really would be better described as a controlled fight to the doors of death. Thankfully, it didn't happen very often, because it took quite a lot for the man to finally lose his perennial cool. But once it happened, _oh boy_.

"I'll go and check on Sutton, Chris was pretty harsh on her. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone, alright?"

Jill shot a quick glance at her comrade, unable to dispel her vision of Dennis face-down on the ground under Chris' menacing glare. But there was nothing she could do; she knew Dennis too well to even try. That man was almost as stubborn as their leader; perhaps that was why the two were so close. But not even Dennis had immunity against Chris' occasional foul moods, so Jill simply made a mental note of where their healing kit was located and walked over to Sutton, who was sulking by the tents.

"_Did you want something_?"

Said person visibly froze when he realized from where, and more importantly _whom,_ the question had come. Chris didn't look happy. In fact, he didn't look happy at all. But what could be the reason for this sudden change of mood? Chris had seemed his normal, impassive self the previous evening, so perhaps it had something to do with the disaster otherwise known as breakfast? Dennis could still feel the sour aftertaste in his mouth... No, he wouldn't think about it. That just made it worse.

"Eh, I was just wondering why you were being so harsh on Sutton. She wasn't even that late."

Dennis knew that he had made a monumental mistake when he opened his mouth, but he couldn't help himself or his infamous bluntness. He wanted to know. After all, wasn't there a saying, 'He who dares wins'? For the Obstinate Arrow unit, the inside-joke about Chris was 'He who dares is unbelievably stupid', and at that moment, Dennis felt unbelievably stupid indeed.

"I see. Are you questioning my abilities as a leader, _Dennis_?"

Chris suddenly looked calm – _too_ _calm_ – and Dennis knew at once that he was screwed. This would lead to one thing and one thing only: something very painful for Dennis.

"Eh, no, of course not, Chris." Dennis made a last, desperate attempt to defuse the inevitably explosive situation. "I was simply wondering what had gotten you into your bad mood, that's all."

"That is none of your concern."The curt reply sliced the air with the same merciless sense of finality as that of his much dreaded battle-axe. "But I will accept your challenge."

"Uhh, ch-challenge? I-I-I didn't challenge you, Chris. Uh, Christopher? Eh, leader? Commander?Boss... man?"

Seeing that flattery wouldn't help him out from his freshly dug grave, Dennis resigned himself to his fate. And true enough, not less than five seconds later, Dennis found himself face-down in the dirt, while Chris' menacing stare was burning a hole at the back of his head.

"Chris! What did you do that for?"

A girl's accusing voice rang through the air, prompting Chris to slowly turn his head towards the direction of the high-pitched sound. He'd be damned if he'd let Pacifica Casull interfere again! But this time, it hadn't been Pacifica, who was taking a walk with her brother and sister and remaining blissfully unaware of the commotion back at camp.

The girl was Winia.

Chris' eyes narrowed at the sight of her as she was standing a few metres away from him with Scorpos at her side. He had to admit that the assertiveness in her voice had taken him by surprise; he would have expected something like this from the young Providence Breaker, but not from _her_. It was obvious that Pacifica was rubbing off on Winia, and he wasn't sure that he liked it.

"I have to maintain order within the ranks. You wouldn't understand."

And then, without as much as another glance at his motionless victim, the girl with the boy or the rest of the gaping members of his unit, Chris left camp and marched into the dense forest.

Leo was the first to break the stunned silence, "What… What just happened?"

"He left," Fafal replied while staring stupidly at Dennis' crumpled form. "Dennis, what the hell did you say to him?"

"Why do you people always assume that it's _my_ fault? I just asked him why he had been so mean to Sutton, he took it as a challenge to his leadership and... Well, I ended up on the ground, didn't I?" Dennis whined, trying his best to win the sympathies of the onlookers. "My jaw _really_ hurts!"

"Didn't I tell you not to do anything stupid? Even someone without my abilities could easily have foreseen this." Much like the other members of the Obstinate Arrow unit, Jill wasn't fooled by Dennis' theatrics; she had simply known him too long and knew the tricks back to front. However, she did feel genuinely sorry for her friend and wanted to help him. "But don't worry, Dennis, we'll get you patched up in no time. Help me, Sutton."

As the two women guided the dazed man in the direction of the healing kit, Fafel was deep in her own thoughts. This was very unusual; she hadn't seen Chri-boy like this since the announcement that the Baroness had been relieved of her duties, and even then his reaction had been much less dramatic. Yes, while he had picked up the habit of venting his frustrations through sparring sessions, he had _never_ fought someone with his bare hands before. Something had definitely happened, but she couldn't figure out what it was... Until she suddenly remembered their brief conversation the previous evening and something clicked in place. It was unlikely, but not impossible, so could—

"Excuse me, Fafal?" Her thoughts were interrupted by Winia's quiet voice. "But does he do this, um, kind of thing often?"

"No. I mean, sure, he blows up once in a while, but he has never confronted anyone like_ this._"Fafal looked closer at the girl's face. Did she detect any signs of worry? Or hurt? No, Winia looked like Winia always did, although, her eyes revealed something that looked like nervousness. Poor girl. Fafal couldn't blame her for feeling uneasy. The first time she had witnessed Chris unleash his unexpected fury during a spar, she had felt the same. "But don't worry. He's not dangerous or anything. I suppose that we just forget how young he really is sometimes."

The older woman was then lost in her own thoughts, so Winia turned away. She locked eyes with Leo, who quizzically raised an eyebrow. His half concerned and half bemused expression said, 'Well, Winia, at least now you know that the Baron knows how to express his emotions.'

Winia sighed inwardly. She had indeed been proven wrong in her assumption that he was unable to communicate his feelings, but it hadn't really been a confidence-inspiring performance.

She couldn't say that she understood him, but she hoped that Chris would be alright.


	5. Tuneless Melody of Memory Lane

**Chapter 5: Tuneless Melody of Memory Lane**

Chris left the astonished camp without much thought as to where he was headed. He just marched straight into the depths of the woods, until, finally, his anger subsided and he sat down on a moss-covered rock.

What the hell had just happened?

The brisk walk had done nothing to clear his head, and Chris was at a complete loss as to how quickly the morning's events had spiralled out of control. Despite having harboured an ominous feeling that this would be a horrible day from the very start, he could never have guessed just how bad things would get.

_When Chris was brutally roused from his dreamless sleep by Shannon Casull's off-key singing, he felt rather aggravated._

_When Chris hesitatingly accepted the unidentifiable breakfast cooked by none other than the ever-chirpy Pacifica, aggravation had developed into barely-contained irritation._

_When Chris finally had forced most of the lumpy concoction down his throat, Dennis and the others had huddled together, while Winia and Leo quietly talked in the background. Irritation had grown into something akin to fury._

_When Sutton reported in late for duty, Chris promptly exploded._

He never meant to go so hard on Sutton, considering that tardiness was only a minor offence and one that he normally overlooked without much thought. And he should have – he knew that – especially considering that they were in the middle of a forest, but once he had started, he just couldn't end the merciless stream of words flowing from his mouth. Judging from her shocked expression and the tear-filled eyes, Sutton had been positively wounded by the time he ended his cruel monologue with a final glare. But at that particular moment in time, Chris had been too angry to care.

Of course, he deeply regretted his unusually irrational behaviour now, as he was sitting on a godforsaken rock in the middle of a godforsaken forest: Sutton had done nothing to deserve such inhuman treatment from him, especially not since she had followed him to exile. He only had himself to blame, but he had set himself up for the gruelling task of apologizing to her later.

Chris sighed as he absentmindedly peeled off some moss with his boot-clad foot.

What was happening to him?

The sudden anger baffled him. His reaction had been so utterly unlike him that he hardly could recognize himself.

Naturally, Chris was well aware of the fact that he wasn't perfect: no matter of how hard he tried, it was impossible to remain calm, collected and impassive _all_ the time. But he worked harder to maintain his famously unruffled demeanour than even his own unit could ever imagine. He was sure that in their eyes, he was their stern leader who effortlessly compensated for his youth with a quiet, vigilant presence that invoked unquestioned respect and, occasionally, fear.

But Chris battled with insecurities, much like everyone else. Only, his battles were exclusively internal and were often simply ignored. It _was_ simple: revealing one's weaknesses even to allies, or dwelling upon them, was unacceptable. Instead, he compartmentalized his existence; and that which he deemed as unnecessary or detrimental to survival, he locked away so securely that he soon forgot how to regain access to them.

He, who remembered the exact moment when he wielded his first halberd, but had no recollection of his dead parents' names or faces, knew no of other code of conduct. After all, Chris had practically been born into the army, and raised for the sole reason of serving his commanding officer. He was one of the select few – a _child soldier_, as some had taunted him when he had first entered the Special Forces – who had never known of any other life than that in the military.

Although never questioning his duties, he had been quite indifferent to life as an ordinary member of the Special Forces. It was true that he had been given numerous opportunities to sharpen his skills with his battle-axe, but he wasn't particularly interested in bloodshed and death unlike some of his colleagues; Chris preferred to also use his brain.

However, things soon changed when he was given a letter of immediate dismissal from his normal duties. To his surprise, the letter had stated that he had been especially requested by a Baroness Bailaha to join her unit. He hadn't believed his eyes. The Baroness was legendary, even ordinary army soldiers knew the name of the most powerful woman in the military, and the commander of the near-mythological group Obstinate Arrow, the Fifth Special Ops of the King's Army. This was a small-knit task force that wasn't known for particular proficiency in battle, but for its impressive record of successful stealth operations. The placement fitted him as a glove, and under the Baroness' watchful eye, Chris felt, for the first time, as if he belonged.

And even after his voluntary excommunication from his old life, it continued to define him:

But that's who he was, an obstinate arrow.

Chris preferred to stalk his target alone, waiting patiently for the exact moment to strike with a tenacious unwillingness to accept defeat.

However, against his will, not even Chris could ignore the insufferable. Thus, he would initiate sparring sessions with members of his own unit and other squads so that he could blow off some steam in a relatively safe environment with a close proximity to immediate medical care. However, the safety precautions were more for his opponents than for him. Chris grudgingly admitted that when seriously agitated, he would fight with greater ferocity than usual, even to the point where he had sent his opponent to the hospital wing at more occasions than one.

Once the word spread about Fifth's Christopher Armalite's ruthlessness, the other squads avoided serious battle with him like the plague. Only the members of Obstinate Arrow didn't dare to refuse serious sparring with their leader.

Chris despised his lapses, even if they were very rare, and felt diminished, weakened, by their mere existence. But, ultimately, he had always remained in control over his mental and physical faculties, even when he was weak: he drew a firm line and adhered to it.

That had been an unquestioned truth until today, when the line had been severely and irreversibly crossed.

As Chris sat on the rock, analyzing the recent events, he was in total disbelief that he had let things go so far. But blind, wild fury had clouded his judgement utterly and completely; Chris had never been so angry in his entire life. So when he had caught Dennis pointing at him from the corner of his eye, Chris had immediately sensed a challenge. It was a simple gesture that could hold a number of meanings, but after a short conversation with the man, Chris had been certain that Dennis was criticizing his leadership abilities.

Chris had then proceeded to punch him squarely on the jaw.

It wasn't until Winia called out to him that he had begun to slowly comprehend what he had done. But then he had still been angry enough to self-righteously pronounce that it was his duty to ensure order in his unit, before storming off into the woods. Like a stubborn_—_

Chris winced at the memory of his behaviour. It had been appalling, utterly appalling. He had acted no better than a violent child, a realization that shocked the normally disciplined leader. His behaviour could not have been much more disgraceful.

This was the first time Chris had raised his bare fists, and it felt the more shocking that he had done so against an ally. And Dennis was so much more than just an ally: he was a trusted comrade and a friend, who had been punished for being just that, a friend – a friend who cared enough to ask him why he was in such a foul mood.

Chris sighed again in exasperation. The feeling of complete lack of control and its consequences were new to him, and he didn't know how to successfully rectify the situation. But he would start with apologizing to Sutton and to Dennis. That was all he could really do.

But he was most concerned about the cause. _Why_ had it happened in the first place?

Chris didn't know for certain. At least, that is what he told himself.

Now, the truth was that Chris _did _have an idea, sort of.

He just...

He just couldn't explain how it _possibly_ could make a difference.


	6. War Song of the Gentle Beast

**Chapter 6: War Song of the Gentle Beast**

The tall, muscular woman was standing with her boots securely planted to the ground, one gloved hand leisurely placed on her hip while the other was resting on the hilt of her sword.

That was her favourite stance; it made her feel relaxed, in control, _powerful_.

Power.

It was so much more than just a word. It was a concept, an ideal. It was said to be deliciously seductive – irresistible, even – but also mercilessly deceptive; sweet promises of glory and fame laced with pain, betrayal and death.

It fascinated her.

Power, indeed.

And yet, she couldn't quite explain what it meant to her; it irked her to no end, but she was still undecided on the matter. However, what she _did_ know with uttermost certainty was that without it you were nothing.

It had been the first of the many painful lessons her older brothers and sisters had taught her, and the only one for which she was grateful. Although she never talked about her childhood, she wouldn't have denied that growing up at the royal court had been hell, had someone unexpectedly possessed the courage to ask her. She had been surrounded by the normal webs of lies, rumours and petty intrigues; she had grown up in the midst of pitiful scrambles for scraps of influence, looked down upon by the court nobles, hated by her own half-siblings and simply ignored by her aloof father who had been far too occupied with ruling the Empire and grieving for his dead wives to care about her. Not that she minded very much.

The second Empress, Seness' mother, had hailed from a proud, fierce warrior clan from the Northern Territories. But the stifling cold reception by the court, her stepchildren's obvious disdain and the sniggering servants weakened her resolve, and she had died shortly after the birth of her only child.

The princess had not been spared the sharp tongues and malicious gossip; boredom and active encouragement from her older siblings ensured that the rumours about the dead woman continued to circulate around the court even years after her death. She had been a savage, refusing to adhere to even the simplest of protocols; a rash, unprincipled barbarian, who had sunk her claws into the king through witchcraft and spells. She had brought with her a pack of magnificent snow white wolves, and it had been obvious to all but the king that the unnaturally tame animals in fact were messengers given to her by an evil spirit. The first of her animals had been discovered only a day after their arrival, bathing in its own blood, and none had remained alive after a week.

But no wonder, the Empress had been a she-beast, barely fit to be called human.

"Beast Princess" they had called her, her step-siblings, obviously hoping to add insult to injury. When she was finally old enough to understand, she had wondered what she could have done for them to hate her so. She possessed no memories of her mother; she had neither a face nor a voice to recall. Seness' mother had been but a stranger to her daughter, but whose cursed legacy she inevitably and unfairly inherited, and yet she had never borne any resentment towards the dead. She had recognized the thinly veiled jealousy in the voices of those most articulate about the Empress' many wrongs.

That knowledge, however, had done little to soften the blows. But as she hardened her shell and retracted further and further into herself, they came to hurt less and less.

She had consoled herself with the few friends she made among the servants, especially Eirote, Drake and Ruce, who all followed her once she had obtained permission from her father to form her own organization. She still savoured that particular memory with grim satisfaction. Her brothers had been furious, but the king had not yielded to their protests. After all, despite of her tender age, she had shown much more promise as a leader than they.

Indeed, Seness was well aware of why they resented her, why they feared her.

It was cowardice.

They were afraid of her potential, afraid of her abilities, afraid that she would claim the throne; terrified that if she did, they would be unable to stop her.

Afraid like the whimpering, incompetent fools they were.

It was for this simple insight that she had withstood the insults, borne the blows, gritting her teeth, patiently biding her time. Someday, she would show them; she would show everyone just who the Beast Princess was. She would finally force them to their knees, and they would watch her and tremble. Someday, she would outshine them all. She would, simply because she knew that she could.

As proud as she was of Scarlet's efficiency, which she knew was unrivalled among the Empire's many organizations, it wasn't enough; not even when she sent her pompous brother's fleet to the bottom of the sea had she been satisfied.

No. She could do better.

And she had. When her lance pierced through the Peacemaker, penetrating its monstrous head like a knife through soft butter, she felt certain that she had finally gained enough power to blow them away completely.

But an immediate revenge would have to wait – she shaded her eyes with one hand as she raised her head to gaze up on the three immobile giants in front of her – because there were more pressing matters to be dealt with first.

"EIROTE!"

"Yes, ma'm?"

"Progress report!"

"All three Gigas are currently nonoperational, but the automatic regeneration process has been initiated." Eirote pushed her glasses a little bit further up on the bridge of her nose before she consulted the contents of her clipboard. "We are currently running a diagnostic on basic defence systems AF-012 to ZB-759. Primary scans indicate that we can increase the output for the weapons systems, so as soon as diagnostics are completed, we'll upgrade them as you requested."

"EIROTE!"

"Yes, ma'm?"

"How long is that going to take?"

"There is no way for us to be certain, but by my calculations—"

"How long?"

"A day, but that's at the very least. Drake's Giga suffered the most damage; we are going to have to reroute four major systems and—"

"You have until this evening."

"I understand. But..."

"What?"

"We'll need the assistance of a Dragoon if the Gigas are to be fully operational in such short amount of time. But since Natalie is bound to the Skid, we can't utilize any of her systems which surpass ours in both efficiency and power. Without her, we can't—"

"I'll talk to Shannon Casull about borrowing his Dragoon. How does that sound?"

"That would make things much easier. Thank you, Princess Seness."

"We're going to have to go over to their camp, anyway. The Special Forces guy promised fresh intelligence. We're leaving in ten minutes."

"Yes, ma'm."

-#-

Fafal had been staring into the camp fire, trying to make sense of the morning's incident, but she looked up when she heard Jill approaching. "Is Christopher back yet?"

"Yes, I saw him talking to both Sutton and Dennis about an hour ago. It looked like he was apologizing." Jill sat down next to Fafal. "But I'm not surprised that you didn't know that he's back. It looked like he didn't want to be seen."

"Jill?"

"Yes?"

"About this morning… I don't like it. I've never seen him worked up like that before."

"I know. I haven't either."

"Do you have any idea of why he acted like he did?"

"No. Do you?"

"I'm not sure, but maybe..."

"Fafal, if you know something we do—"

But the concerned Jill couldn't finish as a familiar low voice interrupted her.

"Fafal. Jill."

Chri-boy. Fafal involuntarily twitched at the sudden sound of his voice. She hadn't noticed that he had slowly walked towards them and when he finally spoke, she was ashamed to say that he had startled her.

What's wrong with you, Fafal? she silently berated herself. You're still an Obstinate Arrow for crying out loud! You've been in the Special Forces for most of your life, damn it! This is not acceptable, so pull yourself together and quit acting like some green, snot-nosed recruit!

"I've already talked to both Sutton and Dennis, but… I want to apologize. For what happened earlier_._"

Chris forced himself to calmly looking at both women in the eye rather than down at the ground, feeling incredibly stupid and still quite ashamed over his behaviour.

"Eh?" As hard as she tried to think of a more acceptable response, Fafal was lost for words.

"That's okay, don't worry about it."

Jill smoothly covered for her friend's temporary muteness, and Fafal sent her a thankful glance. Of all the members of the Obstinate Arrow unit, Jill was by far the most level-headed and diplomatic; and when Fafal thought about it, the seer was also the least violent, although Jill _certainly_ knew how to give as good as she got.

"I sent Sutton and Dennis to the Holy City on another reconnaissance mission." Chris hoped that he didn't look as relieved as he felt. "Also, I thought that they might want some time away from... everything."

Fafal and Jill exchanged a glance. Away from _you_, you mean.

"So we're to wait until they report back?" Fafal asked once she was sure to have regained full control of her voice.

"That's the plan. We'll have another meeting when they return. I've already informed the Casulls and the Giat princess should be on her way."

Both Jill and Fafal nodded their affirmatives, but despite that they had seemed to accept his apology already, Chris was unable to shake the uncomfortable feeling that it hadn't been quite enough. "But about earlier, I hope that—"

"I said, don't worry about it." Jill's voice was unusually sharp. "Isn't that right, Fafal?"

"Of course." Fafal flashed him a reassuring smile and to her relief, Chris seemed to relax.

-#-

Seness and Eirote entered the clearing where the Casulls and the Obstinate Arrow unit had set up camp; and while Eirote walked towards the camp fire where Christopher Bailaha currently was engrossed in a seemingly captivating conversation with two of his subordinates, the Giat princess strode towards Shannon Casull, who was speaking quietly with his Dragoon.

"Shannon Casull" was the full extent of Seness' greeting before she extended a short nod towards Zefiris to show that she had acknowledged the small weapon system's presence.

"Princess Seness." Shannon's reply was equally curt.

Seness almost smiled with appreciation. She never did understand why most people insisted on inquiring about irrelevant things like the weather or the state of one's health. "Eirote needs to borrow your Dragoon as soon as the meeting is over."

"That's alright by me. But you really should ask her." Shannon glanced down at his Dragoon. "Zefi?"

"Yes?" The weapons system's features were as inexpressive as usual.

"Will you help Eirote?"

"Yes, I will comply with the request."

"Good." Seness rewarded the Dragoon with a small, but genuine smile. Eirote would be pleased.

"Dennis and Sutton have reported back from their mission to the Holy City." Chris briefly entered the conversation and motioned towards the camp fire where Jill, Fafal and Eirote had been joined by Sutton, Dennis and Raquel.

"Very well. Let's go."

Seness was about to follow Chris and Zefiris when Shannon took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. It was now or never. "Wait, Princess Seness."

"What?" She turned around, looking at him questioningly, one hand on her hip.

"Um." Shannon knew that he wasn't very good at this kind of thing, but he had to show his gratitude somehow. The princess and her Gigas had saved both him and Zefi from certain death; it was the least he could do, and he had put it off too long already. "Thanks. I mean it."

"For what?" She was genuinely puzzled as to why he would feel a sudden and wholly unexpected need to be grateful. What had she done to merit a thank-you? She wasn't used to friendly gestures from anyone outside Scarlet, and the members of her organization were her loyal subordinates. This Shannon Casull, on the other hand, was somehow, despite his humble heritage, her equal and also only a very recently acquired acquaintance. Therefore, she didn't really know how to respond. Or to what.

"For earlier." Shannon nodded towards the sky. "The Peacemakers."

"Oh, _that_. That was nothing," Seness said truthfully, relieved that she finally understood what was going on. Preparing for war and planning elaborate ambushes were child's play compared to these sorts of things. "I always wanted to operate a Dragoon, but I guess that a Giga is second best. Besides, we took out one of those bastards. That's enough for now."

"But I still owe you, Beast Princess." He smiled at her nickname inwardly. Shannon didn't know how she really felt about the name; although she claimed that she bore it with pride, he wasn't sure. But he was suddenly struck by how well it suited her; when the princess recalled the battle, the gleam in her green eyes had almost been feral.

"Come on. They're waiting." With those simple, gruff words, she turned her back on him and started to walk away with her usual briskness.

Shannon just stood there, staring after her. Normally, he would have been annoyed over the way she had – or rather how she _hadn't_ – accepted his thanks.

That woman, she was definitely something else entirely.


	7. Hell Hath No Fury

Author's Note: I'm so, so, so sorry for taking so long to update the story! I've had a hellish past couple of months combined with a severe case of writer's block, but I've finally managed to finish a chapter. I don't think that it flows quite as well as the others, but at least it's something, right? Again, I apologize for the lateness of the piece, and I hope that you haven't given up on me and the story yet!

* * *

**Chapter 7: Hell Hath No Fury...**

"They're coming."

Dennis' steady voice contained nothing but its usual calm, but the gaze that was fixed upon the features of his friend and commander was far from normal. "The Royal Forces are advancing towards us even more quickly than we had anticipated. They still don't seem to have a positive lock on our location, but..."

"...it's only a matter of time before they do," Sutton finished for him, her serious expression mirroring the grimness that could be found on the face of her friend and comrade. "And we're way past talking about 'when' that happens."

"Position."

The golden-brown in Chris' eyes were nothing other than its normal unflinching, illegible self, but the members of the Obstinate Arrow unit, who over time had learned to interpret the subtle nuances of its expression, detected a slight flicker in its resolve. Fafal, Dennis, Jill and Sutton swallowed a collective gulp; they had only seen it a few times, but they all knew what that flicker meant: the current situation had gotten Chris worried, and if their cold, calculating leader found legitimate cause for concern, things had turned sour, _really _sour. The tension grew as the group anxiously waited for an answer.

"It's only an estimate, but their current location should be approximately 120 miles northwest of us." Sutton stole a glance at Dennis, who offered a curt nod in agreement.

"Oh my." Raquel raised a hand to her mouth. "That means that they'll be here very soon."

"I see." Chris wrinkled his forehead. Raquel Casull was indeed right. 120 miles was too close for comfort, _much_ too close. Things seemed to be deteriorating much quicker than he had expected.

"Miss Raquel, couldn't you erect a barrier around us?" Dennis inquired, sounding rather hopeful. "Or cloak us with illusionary magic or something?"

"Such a task would be impossible even for a mage with Raquel Casull's abilities." Eirote pushed her glasses a little bit further up on the bridge of her nose before she continued, "The area in question is simply too large, plus the process of erecting such a shield would immediately alert our enemies of our position."

"I have already put in place a small barrier to warn us if anyone comes to close, but I'm afraid that Miss Eirote is right. I can't cloak anything this large." Raquel smiled a weak smile in apology, and Dennis sighed in defeat.

"So what do we do?" Fafal glanced over at Jill. "Have you been able to see anything, Jill?"

"No, I haven't." Jill looked at the ground and slowly shook her head. "But you know that I can't control the frequency of my visions."

"You can sense events before they happen?" Seness took a moment to study the dark-haired woman appreciatively. In the company of her more colourful comrades, it was easy to overlook her, but when Seness thought about it, she remembered that she had heard of this person and her unusual ability prior to meeting her in person.

So this was the seer Jill... Even though Seness had been openly sceptical to the vague reports, it would now seem that the rumours were true: the Obstinate Arrow unit really possessed a seer, and if she was powerful enough for the others to rely on her even in times like these...? How interesting.

"Yes, I have had the ability of premonition since I was a child."

"It's an unusual skill, but a considerable asset to any organization." Seness' eyes narrowed a fraction. Despite of the seeming gentleness, something about the seer told her that she was not to be underestimated. How _very_ interesting.

"Thank you, Princess Seness." Despite the seriousness of their situation, Jill allowed for a small smile at the unexpected praise.

"Ah, excuse me, but..." Sutton sounded hesitant, looking to Dennis for permission to continue. Chris' frown deepened. It wasn't like Sutton to bite back what she was thinking _or_ to require approval so openly. The rest of the report would undoubtedly contain bad news. Now, all that remained to see was just _how_ bad.

The two reconnaissance scouts exchanged a glance, and after an affirmative nod from Dennis, Sutton continued with a voice that was uncharacteristically small, "That's not all. I'm afraid that there's more."

Their redheaded comrade opened her mouth to voice the question that ran through the minds of the all people around the camp fire, "_More_? What do you—"

But before she had a chance to finish her question, Fafal was unceremoniously interrupted by Dennis. "In addition to the armed forces, the Special Forces have also been mobilized: Alpha Red, Cloaked Dagger, Lone Sparrow and... and even Black Hawk. As expected, all the squads are to pursue and terminate. But it's about their orders. They aren't the normal set. General Stahl has issued Code_ Black_."

A stunned silence followed the revelation, and expressions of varying degrees of horror appeared on the faces of the members of the Obstinate Arrow unit. Shannon noticed how even Chris shifted his position on the log he was sitting on, and the swordsman's eyes narrowed. If even the stone-faced axe-boy was rattled by the news, then that Code Black-thing was bound to be something serious. But Shannon's immediate concern wasn't the orders, but the Special Forces' units; he couldn't prepare for the onslaught of four specialized units that he knew absolutely nothing about.

"What I want to know is what Alpha Red, Cloa—" Shannon's question was unexpectedly interrupted by none other than the soft-spoken Jill, whose voice contained an urgency that surprised even Chris.

"Dennis, did you really say _Code Black_? But that means..." The seer's eyes visibly widened with terror as a series of fragmented visions entered her mind; if her visions weren't wrong, and they never were, Code Black would be the cause of so much pain, death and destruction. When she had joined the Obstinate Arrow unit, she had prayed that she would never hear that command. Now she was part of the reason it would be carried out. "Dennis, Sutton... Are you _sure_ about this?"

"Code Black, what is it?" Seness' voice was hard. As the supreme commander of Scarlet, it was her responsibility to be well-versed in the codes used by the Giat Empire Central Command, as well as those used by immediate foreign powers, but the princess didn't recognize that particular code. After a quick glance at the others, especially noting the surprised expression on Eirote's face, Seness concluded that no one outside the Obstinate Arrow unit knew what it meant; she was fairly certain that not even Scarlet's extensive database would contain any information about a Code Black. However, being a seasoned warrior herself, Seness could very well imagine what the morbid name described.

"It commands absolute annihilation of the enemy by any means deemed necessary." Fafal's face was grim, as she took it upon herself to reveal the Special Forces' most well guarded secret; only a handful of its own units even knew of its existence. "It is designed so that its jurisdiction stands above national and even international laws, including treaties. But its use is prohibited other than in the event of a national crisis of unprecedented enormity, such as in the event of a world war. So Code Black has never been issued before, and for General Stahl to have given the orders at this time and to _all_ the remaining task forces... Chris, that bastard is really serious!"

"Even Black Hawk has been mobilized under Code Black? Are you sure?" Chris seemed to have ignored Fafal's explanation altogether, his eyes instead fixed on Sutton and Dennis.

"Yes, beyond all doubt. But what remains unknown is whether or not Major Sturm is participating on his own initiative, or by direct orders of General Stahl. I'm sorry, but we weren't able to find that out."

"I see."

The leader of the Obstinate Arrow had to admit that the situation was grave, very grave indeed. Although he had known that a final confrontation was inevitable – Pacifica Casull's sixteenth birthday was approaching rapidly – Chris had to admit that he hadn't expected the Royal Forces _and_ the Four to be dispatched at the same time. Also, there was the additional surprise of Code Black consider; while he knew that the General was a truly ruthless man, Chris could never have imagined that a military man of his calibre would have allowed the situation to escalate so rapidly and in such a seemingly careless manner. The overplayed display of military power, which was unnecessary even when considering the unusual circumstances, and Chris was fairly certain that the prospect of the world ending due to no obvious fault of an overall clueless girl fell squarely under the category of 'unusual circumstances'.

In any case, surely, General Stahl should know that such cheap tricks wouldn't work on someone who knew the army like the back of his hand. So the behaviour pointed to only one thing: _desperation_. The General hoped for a quick and decisive victory, but Chris knew from experience that such an attitude could be a double-edged sword: simultaneously a formidable weapon and a great weakness. However, it depended entirely on _how_ it was exploited and by _whom_. There was still a chance that—

"Chris, you're planning something." Dennis sensed that something about his friend was changing, and the other Obstinate Arrow member guessed that his unit leader was thinking about countermeasures. Even now, when they were sitting in the middle of a forest with forces of unimaginable strength creeping closer for each hour... Chris really was something else. "I just _knew_ that you would have something up your sleeve!"

"Hm."

"What are you thinking, Christopher?" Fafal demanded half-heartedly. She knew her Chri-boy well enough to know that when he was in this mood, he was unlikely to share his thoughts willingly. But although she and the others had since long accepted that Chris simply wasn't the sharing type, it couldn't hurt to ask, could it?

"This new piece of information drastically changes things."

The Giat Empire's third princess concealed a small smile at his cryptic answer. That had been exactly what she had come to expect from him. The short Special Forces guy, that Chris fellow, was undoubtedly an interesting character. The moment she met him, she could tell that he was a true army thoroughbred, just like she. As she understood it, Christopher Bailaha, born Armalite, had been orphaned at an early age and taken into the military before he was adopted into the powerful Bailaha clan for unknown reasons. So, with some obvious exceptions, his story was quite similar to hers: they had both had been raised into the military, depending on their own skills and abilities to survive, understanding the world in terms of weapons and battle strategy. So it would be rather interesting to see how he chose to operate his unit in the light of this new information – very interesting, indeed. Although Seness highly doubted it, perhaps she would even learn something.

"Care to elaborate?" Shannon lazily entered the conversation, but contrary to his casual tone, his eyes were sharp.

"At this moment in time? Not particularly, no."

"You're not being very helpful," Shannon snorted at the other man's secretiveness. "Besides, you never answered my question. What's so special about these four units?"

"That information is strictly classified, but I suppose that it can't be helped, considering the circumstances." Chris looked up to meet the curious glances of the rest of the group. "Alpha Red, Cloaked Dagger, Lone Sparrow and Black Hawk are the code names of the Special Force's four elite units, and—"

"The code names are normally chosen after each unit's area of expertise: Alpha Red specializes in counterterrorism, Cloaked Dagger concentrates on unconventional warfare, Lone Sparrow devotes itself to surveillance and Black Hawk focuses on counterintelligence. With the possible exception of Alpha Red, all units are also highly proficient in the battlefield to a level that surpasses even that of the ordinary units of the Special Forces..." Seness turned to face Chris. "Isn't that right?"

At Seness' unexpected input, Fafal had sharply turned to face Dennis, who looked at Jill, who gazed intently at Sutton, who in turn stole worried glances at Chris. But their young leader merely raised an eyebrow questioningly at the Giat princess. It was highly – _highly_ – unusual that an outsider knew such intimate details about their organization, but what was even more unusual was that the person in question still lived to tell about it.

"You run an efficient organization, Princess Seness." Chris offered a stiffly executed nod to convey his acknowledgement. "You are quite well-informed."

"Scarlet _is_ our country's foremost crisis management organization." The smug smile on Princess Seness Lulu Giat's face sent small shivers of discomfort down the spines of even the experienced Obstinate Arrows. "Gathering intelligence about the military capacities of neighbouring countries, even in times of peace, is part of our duties and I assure you that we _are_ thorough."

"Then I presume that you also know about the fifth unit?" Chris' polite question revealed none of the irritation he was feeling for having been so _exposed_ to the surveillance of a foreign power. Although, even he had to admit that a small part of him was impressed; he doubted that even the Sparrows could have gathered information of better quality. It would seem that the Giat Empire was a force not to be taken lightly. He would have to remember that once all this was over.

"But of course." The triumphant smirk on her face grew wider. The Princess of the Giat Empire had always found the reactions of genuinely rattled people very amusing. "Christopher Bailaha, commander of the Obstinate Arrow unit."

"What's going on?" Shannon hadn't quite followed the exchange and his eyes narrowed with suspicion as he pointed at Chris accusingly. "What _exactly_ is your role in all this, axe-boy?"

"The name is still Chris, Casull," was the sharp reply before the axe-wielder continued. "But now that you ask, Obstinate Arrow used to be the Fifth unit of the Special Forces, specializing in special reconnaissance, which is part of the reason why we were originally assigned with the task of eliminating the Scrapped Princess."

"You're rather casual about that, aren't you?"

Chris, who seemed oblivious to Shannon's death stare, simply said, "Those were our orders."

By the time Chris had finished his sentence, the already heavy atmosphere had turned ten degrees more murderous and Sutton cast a worried glance at the positively glowering Shannon Casull. The expression in his dark eyes made it clear that nothing would please him more than unsheathing his sword for some impromptu sparring, so Sutton decided that the wisest thing was to continue with the report before said Casull forgot that they were now all on the same side.

"Ah, we also learned that the Baroness has been placed under house arrest. But as far as we know, she is not suspected of any involvement in the freeing of the Scrap—I mean, Pacifica Casull, and is therefore not in any direct danger. We, err... We thought that you might want to know, Chris."

"And that was all we have to report," Dennis finished.

"Thank you, Dennis, Sutton," Chris nodded before turning to the Scarlet's highest ranking officer. "Princess Seness, what is the status of the Gigas?"

"EIROTE!"

"Yes, ma'm?" Eirote looked up from her clipboard, abandoning her calculations in favour of lending her undivided attention to her loud superior – who just happened to be seated directly to her right.

"Tell them about the repairs."

"Yes, ma'm." Eirote nodded before she turned to the rest. "We're currently running full diagnostics on all three Gigas' basic defence and weapons systems. The full extent of the damage from the last battle with the Peacekeepers is yet unknown, but what we do know with all certainty is that at least four major systems need to be rerouted in one of the Gigas. This is going to take time, but with Zeferis' assistance, I'm confident that we will finish with the repairs tonight or by tomorrow morning at the very latest."

"Oh, some good news at last!" Raquel smiled at Eirote, who gratefully smiled back at the mage.

"Yeah, we'll need all the help we can get," Shannon nodded in agreement, preparing to get up. Now that Dennis and Sutton had finished with their report, people had begun to talk among themselves, and it felt as if the meeting soon would come to an end. Moreover, the fallen tree trunks they were using as seats were far from comfortable.

"Excuse me, but while I agree that it's great that the Gigas are being repaired, I just don't see what good they'll do us when the Royal Forces _and_ the Special Forces come knocking on our doorstep."

The excited chatter immediately gave way to stunned silence at Dennis' sudden comment.

Seness was the first to rush to the defence of her most trusted subordinate and oldest friend. "Now, look here, you—"

"You can't be serious!" Eirote unwittingly interrupted her defender as she continued indignantly, "The Gigas were to great help when—"

"I know, I'm not denying that, but how effective will they be against ground troops?"

"Your name is Dennis, am I correct?" Eirote turned so that she was face to face with the offender, who was beginning to feel rather uncomfortable under her uncharacteristically hard gaze.

"Yeah, that's right, but what—"

"You just wait and see, Dennis." Eirote's bespectacled eyes were gleaming menacingly, and Shannon looked at her with open surprise. He could never have imagined that the gentle and meek Eirote could look so... _unnerving_. "Princess Seness, permission to immediately return to camp in order to continue with the repairs?"

"Sure, permission granted." Seness had never seen her normally peaceful friend so irritated, and it was that idiot Arrow's fault – Dennis, or whatever he had said his name was. She would make sure that he'd pay for it later. "But Eirote, are you sure that you're—"

"Thank you, ma'm." Eirote bowed politely before turning her back on the group by the camp fire, heading towards camp and the Gigas. "Zeferis."

"Yes?"

"Let's go. We have a lot of work ahead of us, and we better get started."

"Understood."

-#-

"Ah, so I guess we're done here," Sutton muttered. Eirote's sudden exit had acted as a catalyst for a general exodus, and Shannon Casull had already disappeared from view.

"It would seem that you're right," Raquel smiled before she too, excused herself to walk towards Pacifica and Leo who both seemed to be assisting Winia with lunch preparations.

Chris' eyes followed the disappearing mage thoughtfully before his gaze stopped on Winia, and he felt something inside of him waver. Noting the strange, involuntary movement almost absentmindedly – Chris supposed that after the highly unsatisfactory breakfast earlier, his stomach was very much looking forward to something more readily digestible and was merely making its opinion heard – the Obstinate Arrow proceeded to discreetly regard the trio in silence.

Winia was sitting with the ever-cheerful Pacifica Casull and Scorpos, and judging from the knives in their hands and the sack of root vegetables by their feet, lunch would be served not too far into the future.

Although he couldn't hear her, he could tell from the way the corners of her mouth were curled upward and the soft light in her eyes, that despite of prophecies, Peacemakers, imminent danger, death and exile, the girl was _happy_ when she ought to be terrified. Chris would have expected it from the Providence Breaker and also from the annoying noble to a certain degree, but from Winia? Winia Chester seemed much too careful and level-headed, so Chris surprised himself with wondering what possibly could be so amusing about potato peeling.

He quickly discarded that line of thought, though; it would be irresponsible to think about such trivial things when there was a war to be planned, so that lives could be saved.

But that only brought her back into his thoughts.

Chris was well aware of the fact that she was the only one in their odd assembly of outlaws who had no experience with any kind of warfare whatsoever. He wasn't worried about the survivability of himself or his unit; even with the terrible odds against them, Dennis, Fafal, Sutton and Jill were all excellent fighters and resourceful strategists, and he was confident that they would be capable of holding their own in the event of an attack. And then there were the Casull siblings, who, with their respective masteries of swordsmanship and magic (and not to speak of Shannon Casull's custody of a seemingly fully functioning Dragoon) would protect their sister's life just as effectively as any decent-sized army; and the Giat princess and her team of loyal underlings, who probably were seasoned enough warriors as well.

But not her. Not Winia. Even the hopelessly inadequate Scorpos would have a chance of surviving, while Winia would be defenceless when the fighting inevitably broke out.

Chris had battled with this problem since the very beginning, and his conclusion had troubled him far more than it ought to have. After all, weren't there always casualties in war? Besides, everything and everyone came to an end eventually, anyway, regardless of how unwanted and untimely the actual event. Still, the inevitability of death didn't change the fact that he didn't want some bloodthirsty brute to erase her from existence. He had even surprised himself with how strongly he felt about this particular issue. It wasn't like him at all to feel this kind of attachment, but perhaps his sentiments—

"Go. Talk to her." Fafal's voice was unusually soft as she sat herself down on the log next to him. Chris had been so deep in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed that she had approached him; luckily, he wasn't the type to get easily startled, or he would have given her enough material for a lifetime's worth of teasing.

"What do you mean, Fafal?" Chris decided that it would be in his best interests to deny any kind of knowledge of who 'she' was.

"You know _who_." She nudged him playfully and winked.

"On the contrary, I'm sure that I don't," Chris stated firmly, hoping that Fafal would realize that he considered the subject closed. "Now, was there anything else you wanted to tell me?"

"You mean that we might all die tomorrow, and you're just going to _sit_ here?" Fafal hissed, her good mood gone with the cool breeze.

Chris sighed. After years together, he really ought to have known that such an answer only would agitate her. If he knew her well – which he did – things would only get worse from here on. So was there even a point in answering anymore?

"Christopher?" Fafal hissed again, this time a bit louder. "Are you even listening?"

"If you don't have anything more constructive to contribute with…" Chris tried to end the conversation, which was indeed taking a turn for the worse. Although things were playing out just as he had expected them to, it didn't lessen the effects of the on-storming, _angry_ force that was Fafal.

_Women_, Chris sighed in defeat. He wouldn't even try to understand.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Fafal eyed the stubborn prodigy, whose genius had abandoned him at this most crucial of times, with annoyance. "Honestly, Chris, sometimes I—"

"Chris, about Black Hawk, I was thinking—_Oh_." Dennis had joined them, blissfully unaware of the drama that was unfolding in front of him. "Sorry, was I interrupting anything?"

"No, go ahead," Chris said, hoping that Dennis' unexpected arrival would alleviate the situation, which was threatening to spiral out of human control. "You were saying something about the Black Hawks?"

"Yeah, I was thinking—"

"Dennis!" Fafal averted her full attention to said comrade to the relief of her commanding officer, "What are _you_ still doing here?"

"What do you mean?" Dennis looked at his fuming colleague quizzically. "I wasn't aware of any orders saying otherwise."

"You should already have gone to apologize for hurting her feelings!"

"Hurting whose feelings?" Dennis was getting a _very_ bad feeling about this and was desperately looking to Chris for some guidance. But to his dismay, the other Arrow seemed to avoid his gaze altogether. It would seem that he was alone on this one.

"You are so dense!" Fafal was battling with the urge to scream with frustration while whacking Dennis over the head with the dull part of her sword. "Miss Eirote's feelings, of course!"

"Huh? Miss Eirote?" Now Dennis was thoroughly confused. "But I just said—"

"Looks like everyone's here. Are you planning anything…" Sutton's voice faltered when she saw the frustration etched on Fafal's face and the confusion on Dennis'. It was clear that they weren't discussing defence plans, but that something unpleasant was happening and that she and Jill had chosen the wrong time to enter the conversation. "…important?" she ended weakly, already dreading the answer.

"Men really are idiots," the redhead muttered angrily, firing off a glare at said idiotic men for good measure. "Come on, Jill, let's go. Are you coming, Sutton?"

"But..." The look on Jill's face was that of pure gratefulness when she was interrupted by Dennis. She didn't know if she had dared to continue; the normally kind and thoughtful Fafal was a force to be reckoned with once sufficiently provoked.

"Hey, wait a second!" Dennis never appreciated insults, especially not when they were – in his humble opinion – completely uncalled for. "Fafal, I really don't understand what the big deal—"

"Think about it, genius, and then go apologize to her!"

"But that's not an ans—"

"And _you_!" Fafal suddenly turned around to jab a finger at Chris accusingly. "I'm not done with you yet! You're almost as bad as he is!"

"What? _Me_?" Chris sighed. He had used her verbal bombardment of Dennis to slowly inch away from the group, but it would seem that his subtle attempt to physically remove himself from the conversation had failed miserably. Fafal's sudden change of mood was as puzzling as it was irritating; he certainly didn't have time for this nonsense. The army was approaching, the Four had been dispatched and under Code Black protocol no less! There were defence plans to make, countermeasures to set in place, escape routes to plan, but instead Fafal was acting completely irrationally. None of them had time for this frustrating mess, and his patience was wearing dangerously thin. "What is it that _I _am supposed to have done? I haven't done anything."

"_Exactly!"_

"What's going on?" Despite of her line of work, Sutton disliked conflicts, and she wondered what Chris and Dennis could have done to deserve one of Fafal's infamous rants. "While I can imagine why you're mad at Dennis ("Hey!"), I don't understand why you're angry at Chris?"

"Never mind that, Sutton." Fafal linked arms with her female comrades and started to drag them away in the opposite direction from the dumbfounded men. "Come on, girls."

Jill and Sutton exchanged a glance, but decided that it would be safest for everyone involved if they simply obeyed.

"What... What the hell was _that_ all about, Chris?" As he watched the trio disappear from view behind the tents, Dennis looked just as shell-shocked as he felt. Fafal's occasional rampages were almost as frightening as Chris' bad days, and that really_ said something_.

Dennis didn't believe in fate or karma, but being subjected to both aforementioned horrors – _and on the same day no less_ – was just downright creepy. Perhaps the world really was coming to an end after all? The thought wasn't entirely farfetched, with the signs of an oncoming apocalypse all there.

"I'm not sure," was the monotonous reply. No one was completely immune against Fafal's rare onslaughts, not even Chris. "It would seem that tempers are running high today."

"I suppose that it could be some kind of delayed reaction to the report?" Dennis scratched his head and racked his brains, trying his best to explain Fafal's behaviour, which was odd even for her. "Come to think of it, Fafal didn't look like she took the news about Code Black all that well. Maybe it's just the shock, or something?"

"…you're probably right, Dennis."


End file.
